Streets Of Plenty
 

Thought this was a hardcore documentary, the guy went to the extremes to experience homelessness in Vancouver.

It's quite long.

It's been posted a few times here, already. Worth the watch for those that haven't seen it!

heard this guy is a huge shit head.

dont smoke crack kids

guys a fucking idiot but a huge thread with 5 pages a few months ago

Cop he interviews was the one dealing weed out of his cruiser

What makes him an idiot?

did u not see him take shots of heroin and smoke crack? FFS he even went inside a dumpster naked trying to find needles. What is he trying to proove? Does he really need to show that?? You tell me why this isn't idiocy

It's gonzo journalism, it's pretty ballsy to me, and smoking crack is a crazy fucking experience!

Whats the high like jason?

...like warm apple pie.
























oh damn, wrong thing entirely..my bad.

he was sooo close to completing it

Wow, pretty intense getting into all that from comfy shelters to sleeping on streets to getting sick to drug use to interviewing gregor robertson. Thought he was an impersonator lol...
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Definitely worth the watch.

The first and last time I smoked crack I was in Costa Rica


It was 3 AM during a rain storm, I took the straight shooter, loaded the end with brillo, put this gross looking, giant orange rock into the nest made out of metal and glass, and lit it.

Holy. Fuck.

First, my ears rang.
Then I felt like a god.

A few steps felt like floating. I was literally floating anywhere I wanted to go. I went to my room, tingling all over, and found my shorts. My body felt like magic, I moved so fluid and everything was just so awesome. Anywhere you'd look, you'd be like "Wow that's awesome," even if you're looking at a wall. Everything is perfect when high on crack.

I changed and went outside, warm rain pelting my body, my shorts soaked in a few steps out from shelter. The pool was ring-shaped, with an island in the middle. I walked down the stairs into the water and it didn't so much feel like I was in the pool, rather than water was hugging me and holding me in place.

I rolled onto my back and just sort of felt like I was flying. There were mountains a few kilometers behind the house, so picture the silhouette of these hilltops behind the house, lightning flashes brightening up the sky on the other side of the peaks. Time killed clocks as any sense of duration eluded me, just floating, rain pelting my face, at complete peace while my heart seemed to pump extacy through my veins.

Then the bats showed up.

With my eyes half-open, these black streaks started to happen more and more often. I was too at-peace to move. Leaning slightly forward, in the dim lights of the pool, I could make out that bats were swooping down and taking sips of water from the pool I was in. Not just one, several, many.

So there I was, in a rain storm, higher than balls, admiring the way the lightning lit up the sky, listening to the booms and cracks mixing in with crashing rain on broad-leafed tropical plants, the occasional sound of some odd jungle creature crying out, with bats swooping inches from my face to sip from water, all while I was laying on my back and just floating on crack.

I never touched the shit again because I know I could never have a better experience.